Good….bye.

I was fucking angry.

I Mean..  Who does she think she is? Coming into my life to cause distraction and destruction, and then trying to rebuild it with dysfunction? 

My life…it was fine without her. I was living, making mistakes, but on my own terms, on my OWN time. Now, all I got to show for my time is not a penny to my name and a river of texts messages blaming me for our demise. Thinking about the countless friendships, family repairs, and EXPERIENCES that were covered in our relationships emotional black tar. We were so ugly that no amount of trips, obstacles, or triumphs could make us look better together. I mean, who the fuck is she to tell me how much better off she would have been if she hadnt listened to Debra? That trusting me was a mistake, when I put my fucking life on the line for her so that she could prosper? Go to school, LIE to me countless times about her finances, and disrespect me with an apology lined up and ready to go because she knew I wasnt going to fight it too hard.

I was fucking pissed. 

Until, about 30 minutes ago. Now I am relieved. Even after 3 weeks of being broken up I still let you come around and rub salt in the wounds. Cry victim just a little bit longer. And I guess all it took was for you to tell ME you have already decided that we will now spend time apart. 

So, I am relieved.

Goodbye Amber. It was quite an experience knowing you.
Krj

No title

San Francisco

Los Angeles

Rosarito

Miami

Cancun

Chicago

Dallas

New York

Washington D.C.

Baltimore

Las Vegas

New Orleans

San Diego-

I had to delete photos of us in all of these places. It took me about 30 minutes.

A reminder that no matter how many places we’ve traveled, our final destination is being strangers in our city.

In vibrant health,

Your ex Kymmie

 

I find myself in the same place I was in 6 years ago.

Lost, distracted…distant.

Coming up with a new plan to disappear slowly.

People wonder what could have done for you 

When you’re gone.

And all they had to do was listen. 

When you think there isn’t any hope at the bottom.

I told myself it was okay to sink.

Okay to sink in the water at the bottom of the well

That I falling into

Even though I would probably drown.

It went on and on, giving me time to think about

The outcome;

Giving me time

To accept the outcome.

That my anticipation was guaranteed,

There was dirty water beneath me. 

When I finally hit the bottom,

It was as dry as the Saharan skies

My surprise came as I realized that I had survived

Though, it hurt like hell.

I guess my life lesson is that I can anticipate the worse outcome,

But the reality can be much harder,

And I will still live. 

Dreams

Let’s suppose that you were able every night to dream any dream you wanted to dream
and you would naturally as you begin on this adventure of dreams,
you would fulfill all your wishes.

You would have every kind of pleasure you see
and after several nights you would say
wow that was pretty great
but now let’s have a surprise
let’s have a dream which isn’t under control
Well somethings going to happen to me that I don’t know what it’s going to be
Then you would get more and more adventurous
and you would make further and further out gambles
as to what you would dream
and finally you would dream where you are now
If you awaken from this illusion
And you understand black implies white
self implies other
life implies death
you can feel yourself
not as a stranger in the world
not as something here on probation
not as something that has arrived here by fluke
but you can begin to feel your own existence as absolute fundamental
what you are basically
deep deep down
far far in
is simply the fabric and structure of existence itself
-Alan Watts

Intervention

Forgive me if I stumble…there is just a lot of mess on the ground…

Somewhere in the clutter I have lost my way. Told myself that I could go on pretending that not seeing a future is part of the fun. And missing you would be like cutting my arm on purpose and having no choice but to self care the wound. That it was okay to be in a relationship where my partner didn’t have to be present, so long as they are calling to check in and let me know that they are on their way; yet somehow always late or even worse, never showing up. I never wanted you to feel responsible for the way things turned out, but I can’t help but see the fact that the failure shines brighter than the future, and the conversations are just white noise to the truth…my truth. I feel selfish because I wanted to see how this thing turned out. “What if we have the best fucking relationship that anyone could imagine”. What if? The question is so powerful that it could rearrange my life plans, silence my unhappiness, and keep one of my size 8 1/2 feet planted uncomfortably in the door just so that I can win the prize at the end of this very difficult game that we seem to be playing…It has become apparent that the only way to fix this travesty is by accepting it’s broken, and realizing that we have lost some of the parts to put it together. 

How dangerous is it, that

You have become the poetry that I write
In my head 

During sex.

You,

Have become the love at first sight that I’d set out to meet

Every day and night;

And I

Am waiting anxiously to see if

I am just dreaming;

If I am

just making up stories

To mask the pain of loneliness. 

Or, if it is the

Love drugs

That

Drag me down 

Your tummy 

With my tongue…

And the only way I can allow myself

To recover

Into sobriety

 is 

To fall into this 

Binge again.